


Can't You Tell That I Want You

by sunshinexbomb



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingering, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb
Summary: He stares, open-mouthed and wide-eyed and it’s not him staring back, at least, not exactly.“What the fuck?” he yelps, his voice high and cracking and definitely not his.The face in the mirror is - well it’s him, but also - not. His hair is a bit longer and some of the angles of his face are softer. But other than that it’s him - his nose, his eyes, his thin mouth. It’s definitely him just -Hesitantly, Christian glances down his shirt and blanches.Yeah, he’s definitely got tits.--In which Christian wakes up to a few changes to his body that he's incredibly not happy about.





	Can't You Tell That I Want You

**Author's Note:**

> I'm supposed to be working on my HBB or my All Caps Exchange fic and instead I wrote - this. I really do apologize.
> 
> This is clearly fictional. Title is from Niall's "Slow Hands" (yes, again). Thanks to Kassie for the beta - all other mistakes are my own. Also thanks to Julie for enabling me.
> 
> Please check the end notes for some additional warnings and explanations!

Christian doesn’t mean to watch Gina Carlson’s entire Instagram live video.

He’s mostly just clicking through all his apps for lack of anything to do. DC’s been pissing rain for hours, and Christian’s alone at home because Jake’s being a baby and refusing to come over in this weather. Christian’s _bored_ and watching Instagram stories is better than nothing. He can only play so much Fortnite before going out of his mind.

Christian stops on Gina’s story because he sees Andre. He knew that Andre was getting back into town today, and it’s not really surprising that he went straight to the Carlson’s. Christian’s sure he got a free hot meal out of it, and he looks happy laughing and playing mini sticks with Lucca. 

The volume on his phone is down so Christian turns it up, slouching down farther on his couch to get comfortable. It’s a gloomy kind of day, thunder and lightning breaking periodically while fat, heavy drops pound against the windows relentlessly. Still, Christian manages a smile at Lucca flopping around in the goal and Andre’s soft laugh.

Gina starts reading through the comments aloud, and Christian frowns a bit when she asks Andre about whether he likes tall blonde girls, if he likes volleyball players and swimmers and brunettes and redheads and anything that comes up from the fans. 

Andre’s good at playing bashful, at saying he likes girls who play sports and girls who will learn Swedish for him.

“Andre likes girls,” Gina confirms, laughing because Andre won’t reveal anything about his type other than well - _girls_.

Christian’s stomach rolls a bit even though this isn’t, like, _news_. Christian’s seen Andre pick up, seen him chatting up girls at bars and after games and taking them back to his hotel room on road trips.

But -

Christian just thought -

No. He’s not letting himself go there. 

Christian clicks through parts of the rest of Gina’s story, watching Andre switch to goalie, watching her teasing both him and Carly with affection. When it’s over, Christian lays with his phone on his chest for a little bit, and tries not to think about Andre and _girls_.

\--

The rain is still coming down hard on Sunday morning. Christian wakes up late and finds that his room is still dark, heavy clouds blocking the sun. He stays in bed because there’s only a few more days that he can actually do that before camp starts and the shit weather is making his head hurt.

Beside him, Christian’s phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a notification.

**From: Andre Burakovsky**

**__** _breakfast?_

**To: Andre Burakovsky**

**__** _are you asking if i want breakfast or if i’ll make you breakfast_

**From: Andre Burakovsky**

**__** _the second thing_

**To: Andre Burakovsky**

**__** _then no_

**From: Andre Burakovsky**

**__** _:(_

Christian’s about to put his phone down and snuggle back under the covers when it starts to ring in his hand. He picks it up with a frustrated huff.

“I’m not making you breakfast,” he says, voice still hoarse with sleep.

“Did you just wake up?” Andre asks. “It’s already ten.”

Christian rolls over on his side, putting the phone on speaker because it’s easier. “Yeah, it’s also Sunday and raining enough to put the whole DMV underwater. Do you have a problem with me sleeping in?”

“Yeah, if you’re sleeping then you can’t make me breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t have made you breakfast anyway, brat.”

Andre laughs softly, probably because he knows he could’ve weedled Christian into cooking for him despite his protests. “What if I brought you breakfast?”

“Well, I wouldn’t turn you away,” Christian says, his eyes starting to feel heavy with sleep again.

“Bagels okay?”

“And lots of coffee,” Christian adds, drowsily.

“I’ll be there in thirty,” Andre promises, and Christian is out again by the time Andre hangs up the phone.

\--

“ _Djooooos_.”

Christian wakes up again to Andre standing at the foot of his bed, a brown paper bag in one hand and a drink carrier in the other. The smell of fresh coffee and warm, buttery bagels makes Christian’s stomach grumble.

“How’d you get in here?” Christian says between a yawn. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. 

“With the key you gave me last season,” Andre says like it’s obvious. He places the coffee on Christian’s bedside table, crawling up beside him on the bed.

“You’re gonna get crumbs in my bed,” Christian says, but there’s no heat behind it because Andre’s handing him a bagel and it’s still hot and slathered in cream cheese. Sometimes Andre’s not the worst.

“I won’t,” Andre insists, unwrapping his own. A few crumbs fall into his lap and he smiles guiltily. “I’ll clean it up,” he promises instead.

Christian doesn’t say anything and just starts on his bagel, already knowing that won’t happen either. 

They eat quietly, Andre’s arm brushing against Christian’s. Christian tries not to think about how good Andre looks, all tan from the summer sun and his mouth red as he licks cream cheese off his hands. He also tries not to stare which is hard when Andre is sitting in his bed with his fingers in his mouth.

Andre smiles goofily at Christian when he notices him looking. “What?”

Christian blushes, glad it’s still pretty dark in his room from the overcast skies and hoping that maybe Andre won’t notice. “You’re a mess,” he says, handing Andre the napkins he brought with him from the cafe.

“Gina said the same thing yesterday,” Andre says with a laugh, taking the napkins and wiping at his hands and face. “She said I’m worse than Lucca sometimes.”

“That’s probably true,” Christian says, laughing when Andre pouts at him. “I saw her Instagram thing yesterday,” he mentions.

Andre brightens a bit at that. “Lucca has a hard shot, huh? I should start wearing a cup when I go over there.”

“Too bad he’s wasting that shot by becoming a goalie.”

“Well, apparently I’m his favorite player now, so maybe he’s changed his mind.”

“He only said that because you were in the room,” Christian says. “I’m sure if like Nicke was there, Lucca would’ve said he was his favorite.”

“Shut up,” Andre says, punching Christian in the leg. “You’re just jealous that you’re not Lucca’s favorite.”

Christian rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee. It’s hot and sweet and milky and just like he likes it. He doesn’t remember ever telling Andre his coffee order, and he wonders when Andre picked that up.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Christian says warmly.

“I probably owed you one,” Andre replies, laughing.

“You definitely owed me one,” Christian says, making Andre laugh louder.

They finish up quietly, and Christian doesn’t even complain about all the crumbs left over on his pillows.

\--

Andre stays for most of the day. The rain never really stops, the wind picking up around noon and blustering on well into the afternoon. They drink beer on Christian’s couch and watch Netflix and order in for lunch. It’s nice - Christian would never admit it aloud but he’s missed Andre a lot over the summer.

“Who are you texting?” Christian asks halfway through their third movie of the day. 

Andre’s laying across the couch, toes tucked underneath Christian’s thighs. He’s been laughing at his phone for the better part of the last hour and it has Christian curious even if usually Andre’s the nosy one.

“Your mom,” Andre replies, because he’s a child. Christian glares at him.

“You’re a dick.”

“I’m just talking to this girl Gina’s trying to set me up with,” Andre says. “She’s apparently determined to get me a girlfriend now after all those questions last night.”

Christian hates that his stomach knots at Andre’s reply, that the warmth he’d been feeling in his chest all afternoon cools quickly. “Oh. Are you gonna go out with her?”

Andre shrugs the best he can when he’s lying down. “Maybe I’ll grab a drink with her - she seems nice and I don’t want to be rude if she’s Gina’s friend. But I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

“You should,” Christian says, and his voice sounds weirdly stiff even to his own ears, even though he’s trying to keep it light, “go out with her, I mean. You clearly like her better than me at least since you haven’t looked up from your phone forever.”

“Aw, _Djoooos_ ,” Andre says, smiling cheekily with his tongue pressed against his teeth, “you know you’re my favorite.”

Christian definitely does not blush. “Whatever. Do you want another drink?” 

“Sure,” Andre says, setting his phone down on the coffee table as Christian heads to the kitchen and thanking him with a soft, “You’re the best, babe,” when he comes back with two bottles.

Christian tries not to take anything from the fact that Andre doesn’t look at his phone again for the rest of the afternoon.

\--

Andre leaves before sundown, just in case the weather gets bad again, and Christian turns in early, sleepy from a day of doing little but drinking beer and lazing around lethargically. 

Monday morning is still dark and dreary, Christian’s head hurting even more than the day before. In fact, his whole body feels stiff and uncomfortable and he wonders if it’s from the weather or just from the fact that he spent all day yesterday lying on the couch.

Christian figures it’s a combination of both, and he doesn’t realize something is _wrong_ until he’s shuffling into the bathroom connected to his room and his own reflection catches his attention in the mirror.

He stares, open-mouthed and wide-eyed and it’s not him staring back, at least, not exactly.

“What the fuck?” he yelps, his voice high and cracking and definitely _not his_. 

The face in the mirror is - well it’s him, but also - not. His hair is a bit longer, shoulder length instead of cut short and some of the angles of his face are softer. But other than that it’s him - his nose, his eyes, his thin mouth. At first glance he might mistake himself for Patricia, but that’s not exactly right either. It’s definitely him just -

Hesitantly, Christian glances down his shirt and blanches.

Yeah, he’s definitely got tits.

“Fuck me,” Christian mutters, because of course, _of course_ of all the fucking things to happen to him, it’s gotta be this.

\--

The first thing Christian does is call Jake.

“It’s still raining, I’m not coming over,” Jake says, in greeting because he’s a dick.

“Yes you fucking are, I’ve got a huge fucking problem,” Christian says, hand coming up to his throat because his voice sounds so fucking _weird_.

Jake pauses on the other end of the line. “Who is this?”

“It’s me, asshole,” Christian says, trying to make his voice sound deeper. It just comes out weird and strained.

“What’s wrong with your voice do you have a cold or something? I’m not coming over to bring you soup or anything like that.”

Christian sighs in frustration, rubbing at his temples. He’s sitting at the foot of his bed, hunched over with his elbows against his knees. “No, V, listen. I’m having a _problem_. Like that thing that happened to you in Hershey and we said we’d never talk about it again? That kind of problem.”

Jake pauses again and a part of Christian’s afraid he’s hung up. Christian’s about to call his name again when he says, “I’ll be there in like, twenty,” and the line goes dead.

\--

Christian feels like he should get in the shower before Jake gets there, but he gets distracted, examining himself in the mirror on his way in.

Overall, he really doesn’t look that different. He’s still tall, still kind of lanky. His thighs are still thick with muscle while his arms and upper body are a bit leaner. His hips are a bit wider, maybe, but not much. He steps on the scale and his weight’s still where it was after pre-season training. 

It’s just - well, he definitely has breasts. They’re not very big, but they’re there and he’s definitely missing a dick so-

The whole thing is so weird.

Christian does manage to get himself in the shower, not spending too much time in there because every time he glances down it makes his skin itch uncomfortably. When he dresses, it’s in something loose that hides the slight curve of his waist and chest and a pair of baggy shorts that sit differently on his hips than usual.

He’s still looking at himself in the mirror, trying to categorize the differences in his face, when there’s a knock at the door, Jake’s voice coming in from the other side.

“I was hoping you’d look a bit hotter - more like your sister,” Jake says when Christian opens the door and Christian punches him in the shoulder, hard.

“Shut up, you dick. Don’t talk about my sister. Ever.”

Jake winces, rubbing at his shoulder. “Jeez, fine.”

Christian leads him inside and they sit on the sofa where Christian spent most of his day with Andre yesterday. Jake sits a little farther away than he usually might, and looks Christian over closely in a way that almost makes Christian uncomfortable.

“This is so weird,” Jake concludes finally, and Christian rolls his eyes.

“You’re telling me.”

Jake gives him a once over again and then grins wolfishly. “Have you like -” he finishes his thought with a jerking off gesture.

Christian feels heat flood his face, and he blushes furiously. “Jesus, no, I haven’t, you perv. I feel weird enough in this body as it is.”

“You should,” Jake says. “That was the first thing I did and it was great. Probably top five orgasms in my life.”

Unfortunately, that does pique Christian’s curiosity a little, and he looks at Jake, head tilted to the side. “Like better than the time that we -”

“No, but probably right after that.”

Christian files that thought away for later because he has bigger things he has to deal with right now. “Okay, not important right now. How do I make it go back? Camp starts soon, Jake, and I can probably play but like, I’d rather avoid it if I’m going to have to deal with this in the locker room.”

“We can fuck,” Jake says and Christian punches him again. “Ow! What? I’m being serious!”

“Obviously not if your only suggestion is us fucking.”

Jake glares at him, but explains, “Listen, I only turned back after Madison fucked me so hard into the mattress that I literally cried, so I think that if you want things to go back to normal you’re gonna have to accept some dick from somewhere.”

“I don’t want you to fuck me right now,” Christian says blandly. 

Jake shrugs. “Your loss. I’m pretty sure that’s the only way to fix things, though.”

Christian lets out a frustrated moan, letting his head fall against the couch. “I hate this.”

Jake scoots a little closer to him, and Christian’s grateful, feeling comforted by the weight of Jake’s arm around his waist. Jake fits a bit differently against him, but it still feels familiar, and Christian lets his head drop on Jake’s shoulder instead. “What do I do?” he asks softly.

“We’ll figure something out,” Jake promises. “I’m sure there’s some other way to deal with this. Do you want me to ask around? I’m sure we’re not the only two this has happened to.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Christian mumbles. “Thanks. And thanks for coming over, I just - didn’t know what to do.”

“No problem, babe,” Jake says, kissing the side of Christian’s head. “If you want to repay me, though, you could show me your tits.”

Jake gets out of the way just in time to avoid Christian’s fist.

\--

Jake stays over for a bit. He makes Christian lunch and they play some FIFA while the rain continues on outside.

“Did something happen last night?” Jake asks, and Christian’s distracted enough that he leaves his goalie wide open and surrenders a goal.

“Like what?” he asks and Jake bites his lip.

“Something that would cause this,” he says, gesturing to Christian. “I just - I remember when it happened to me - Madison and I had gotten into a fight the night before. I was - pissed. He’d made a stupid comment and I said something nasty to him and then went and got drunk and cried and passed out on Vitek’s couch and then in the morning I was, well, y’know.”

Christian pauses the game, letting the controller hang in his hands. “Um, I was with Andre all day?”

“And?” Jake prompts, eyebrow raised.

“And nothing,” Christian says, eyebrows furrowing. “We watched movies. I got kind of pissed that Andre was texting some girl when he was supposed to be hanging out with me. And then he stopped and we watched more movies and he went home.”

“You got pissed that Andre wasn’t paying attention to you?” Jake asks, laughing. “Dude, that sounds more like the kind of thing he’d do, not you.”

Christian glares, unpausing the game and turning his attention back to it. “I mean, he came over on his own and then spent his whole time texting someone else, it was just annoying. If he wanted to do that he could’ve just stayed home.”

“You sound like a jealous girlfriend,” Jake says, laughing harder enough that he doesn’t even notice Christian’s team passing the ball up field and straight into the goal. The cheers from the game are muted by Jake’s giggles.

“Andre isn’t my boyfriend, he can text who he wants,” Christian mumbles. “I’m just saying he shouldn’t do it when we’re supposed to be hanging out.”

“You want him to be, though.”

“Want what?”

“He’s not your boyfriend, but you want him to be.”

Christian feels his face heat up and he drops the controller in surprise. “What - no I don’t - what the fuck?”

“I have _eyes_ , Christian, you don’t have to lie to me,” Jake says, his laughter petering out. “Hey, maybe you should ask Andre to fuck you.”

“No,” Christian says sharply. It comes out a lot harsher than he means to and even Jake bristles. “I don’t want him to - or like I don’t want -”

“What?” Jake asks, more softly.

“I don’t want the reason that Andre finally fucks me to be because I don’t have a dick anymore,” Christian admits, feeling that same itching under his skin that he did that morning in the shower. “I can’t deal with that right now. With Andre only wanting me because I don’t look like a guy.”

Jake’s quiet and Christian can feel him looking in his direction even though Christian’s avoiding his eye. Finally, Jake picks up Christian’s controller, placing it between them before patting Christian’s thigh softly. “Okay, sorry, I won’t bring it up again. But for what it’s worth, I think Andre would want you either way.”

Christian appreciates the thought, but he has a hard time believing that’s true.

\--

Jake stays around until he gets a call from Madison reminding him they’re supposed to have dinner together.

“You can come with us,” Jake says as he’s pulling on his raincoat. “I’m sure Madison wouldn’t mind.”

Christian shakes his head quickly, horrified at the thought of going out in public like this. “Yeah, absolutely not. I’m just gonna hide out for as long as I can.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you know if I hear back from anyone about any other possible solutions to this other than -” Jake stops, waving his hands vaguely.

“Other than fucking?” Christian asks dryly and Jake laughs.

“Yeah, that.”

It’s too quiet in Christian’s apartment once Jake leaves, so he turns on something random on Netflix to fill the silence. Settling onto the couch, Christian picks up his phone from the coffee table where it’s been abandoned for most of the day. He freezes when he sees his notifications.

**From: Andre Burakovsky**

**__** _u and v are having lunch wo me :(((_

**From: Andre Burakovsky**

**__** _djoooooos y didnt u invite me_

**From: Andre Burakovsky**

**__** _im gonna come crash your party_

Christian calls Andre without thinking about it, and Andre picks up after just the first few rings. “ _Djoooos_ , I was just about to call you.”

“You don’t have to come over,” Christian says, wincing when he hears his voice again.

“Your voice sounds weird. And why not? I wanna hang out with you and Jake.”

“Jake just left,” Christian explains quickly, “he was helping me with something but he’s out with Madison now.”

“Is everything okay?” Andre asks, and his concern is obvious. 

“Yeah, everything is fine, I’m just not feeling great,” Christian says. “Probably the weather or something making me sick, I don’t know. You don’t need to come over, Andre.”

“Well, I’m already here, and if you don’t get the door, I’m just gonna come in, so-”

Christian swears when there’s a knock at the door. He hangs up the phone, dropping it next to him when Andre calls out, “Djoos, I know you’re in there. Open the door.”

Christian feels trapped, knowing that Andre will make good of his promise to just come in if Christian doesn’t open the door. He takes a few deep breaths, tucking his hair behind his ear nervously before he opens the door.

Andre’s eyes widen in surprise when he sees Christian, his brow furrowing immediately after. “Um, sorry, do I have the wrong apartment -”

“No, you idiot, it’s me, Christian,” Christian replies flatly and Andre’s eyes get wider.

“What the fuck?” Andre says, eyeing Christian up and down. “But you’re-”

“I know.”

“How-?” 

“I have no idea.”

“Why-?”

“Did you bring me dinner?” Christian asks, noticing the bag of takeout in Andre’s hand for the first time. His stomach grumbles at the smell of Pad Thai and dumplings.

“Yeah,” Andre says, following Christian inside and closing the door behind him. “I figured I probably owe you more than one.”

“Great, I’m fucking starving,” Christian says.

“Cursing isn’t very lady-like,” Andre says weakly and Christian flips him off.

“Fuck off, no one said I have to share.” It’s enough to make Andre laugh and Christian lets go of a bit of tension in his shoulders that he didn’t even know he was holding. “Be a gentleman and set the table, asshole,” he says mockingly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Andre says politely and Christian flips him off again.

\--

“So this is just a thing that happens?” Andre asks, around a mouthful of noodles. 

They abandoned the idea of sitting on the table, choosing to spread out across the floor in front of the TV instead. Christian’s already finished a whole bottle of beer and started on a second and it’s doing wonders to make him feel more relaxed about this whole thing.

“Yeah, apparently,” Christian says, picking at his Pad Thai.

“And it happened to Jake?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t know how to fix it?”

“No,” Christian lies, avoiding Andre’s eyes.

“But it _can_ be fixed?”

Christian does look up at that. “Well, last time I checked Jake doesn’t have tits so -”

Andre barks out a laugh, one that’s loud and embarrassing and genuine enough to make his eyes crinkle. Christian hates how much it make heart race.

“A good point,” Andre says, placing his takeout box on the floor and taking a swig of his drink. “In any case, I hope you know you make a hot girl.”

“Jake basically said my sister is still hotter than me,” Christian grumbles. “And I’m not a girl, Andre.”

Andre raises an eyebrow at him. “You have tits. I can see them. You know it’s cold in here, right, Djoos?”

Christian folds his arms across his chest, blushing. “Don’t look at my boobs, you weirdo.”

“It’s not my fault your nipples are just out there,” Andre says with a shrug and Christian elbows him hard in the ribs.

“Shut up. Also, having tits doesn’t make me a girl. I’m still the same, I just -”

“Have boobs,” Andre says and Christian elbows him again.

“Being a girl doesn’t have to do with having boobs,” Christian says warily. “Just like being a guy doesn’t have anything to do with having a dick - you do know that, right?”

“Yeah, I already had that conversation with Brandi once. I was just messing with you.”

“You’re a dick,” Christian mumbles and Andre laughs at him loudly.

“Sorry. Anyway, Jake’s wrong, you’re plenty hot and you’ve always been hotter than your sister.”

Christian doesn’t know how to respond to that so he just doesn’t, pushing it to the back of his mind with other things he doesn’t want to read too much into it. They sit quietly for a while, enjoying their food, enjoying each other’s company, until Andre interrupts.

“Hey, have you like -” he stops, making the same hand gesture Jake had earlier that day.

“Oh my god,” Christian says blushing. “You and Jake are both the fucking worst. No, I haven’t.”

“That’s the first thing I would have done,” Andre says with a shrug. “I bet it’d feel amazing, right?”

“I guess, I don’t know,” Christian says, tucking back a strand of hair that’s falling in his face.

“Well, if you need a hand - ” Andre says, wiggling his eyebrows and it’s ridiculous enough that Christian has to laugh.

\--

Andre ends up passing out in Christian’s guest room, claiming he’s too tipsy to drive home even though Christian knows he didn’t even finish his second beer. Christian doesn’t argue, just lends Andre a change of clothes and wishes him goodnight before returning to his own room.

Christian changes out of the clothes he’s been in all day, slipping into a pair of boxer briefs which fit weirdly when he doesn’t have enough to fill them and a white shirt that stretches strangely across his chest. He tries to ignore it all as he gets into bed.

It turns out, though, that Christian can’t fucking sleep. He’s frustrated, lying there for what feels like forever, and tossing and turning restlessly.

He huffs out an annoyed breath. Usually, when he gets like this he would just jerk off, but -

Christian pauses, mind wandering back to what Jake had said. Top five orgasms of his life. Christian has to admit he is a bit curious.

“What do I even fucking do?” Christian mumbles to himself.

Christian’s been with girls. Watched them get off. Watched porn. But it’s different when it’s his own body and he has no idea what might or might not feel good to him. 

Christian pushes back the covers of his bed, rucking up his shirt at the same time. His breasts are small, one of them fitting easily into his hand. The skin there is smooth, soft, and Christian thinks about girls he’s been with, how he’s touched them, when he runs his thumb over his nipple. It makes him shiver, but it’s not enough, and he moves his hand down farther.

He stops at the elastic of his briefs, pushing them down around his ankles with a lot less hesitancy than before. He can feel that he’s already wet between his legs, just from thinking about getting off. It’s strange, but it’s in no way bad.

The wetness is hot when Christian puts his fingers in it. He touches himself blindly, just trying to figure out what feels good, what sends electricity up his spine.

It doesn’t really happen until he finds his clit and he gasps loudly. 

“Fuck,” Christian moans, and he touches himself there again, fingers running over the nub and sending fire through his veins. It’s so different from when he touches his dick and it feels almost unbearably good, enough so that Christian lets out another loud moan before remembering Andre is just in the other room.

Fuck, Andre.

It’s hard not to keep thinking about Andre now that it’s in Christian’s head. He keeps rubbing at his clit, wondering what it would be like to have Andre’s hands there instead, feel Andre’s fingers inside him, see Andre’s face between his legs.

Now that Christian has an idea of what he’s doing, he gets himself off hard and fast, almost embarrassed at how riled up he’s getting thinking about nothing but Andre and his thick thighs and big hands and red mouth.

Christian feels his orgasm build in his stomach and it flows through him when he pushes himself over the edge. His toes curl with it, his hand fisting into his bedsheets as he lets out a gasp that he can’t hold back. 

Christian’s heart is still beating fast when it’s over, his breaths coming out short and quick. The wetness on his fingers and between his legs make him blush now that’s he’s coming down from it all.

He does feel more relaxed, though, bones heavier and looser, and when he closes his eyes, it doesn’t take long for Christian to fall asleep.

\--

When he wakes up, Christian’s still in the same body as yesterday, and it’s disappointing to say the least.

He didn’t exactly think that jerking off would solve the problem, but a part of him did hope.

Christian pads into the bathroom. He takes a piss, which is still weird, and tries not to stare at himself as he brushes his teeth and washes his face. 

Andre’s awake before him, already sitting at the kitchen table on his phone with a mug full of tea and some plain toast. He gives Christian a small, sleepy smile, and Christian tries to ignore the way Andre’s obviously watching as he makes himself a cup of coffee.

Christian can feel Andre’s legs bumping against his when he sits at the table, but doesn’t move them and Andre doesn’t either. He steals bits of toast off Andre’s plate, and Andre lets him. The moment is comfortable, and Christian wouldn’t mind if it stretched on forever.

Andre’s the first to speak, clearing his throat awkwardly to get Christian’s attention. “So, I talked to Jake this morning.”

“Okay,” Christian says, putting down his coffee. He keeps his hands around his mug, heat radiating off the ceramic. “About what?”

“About, y’know,” he gestures at Christian and then blushes a little. Christian’s stomach twists nervously. “And he, uh, told me. What happened when it was him. And how he turned back.”

“Andre,” Christian says warily, “I don’t -”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Andre asks, voice surprisingly small. “You knew, right? You must’ve asked him. And then yesterday you told me you didn’t have any idea how to reverse this.”

Christian looks into his coffee, glad for the first time that his longer hair easily hides his face. He still tucks it back behind his ear, though, biting nervously at his lips. “And what would you have done if I did tell you?” Christian asks.

“Offered to help,” Andre insists, “offered to -”

“Offered to sleep with me?” Christian asks, voice flat.

Andre blushes uncharacteristically. “Well, yeah, if it means turning you back-”

“No thanks,” Christian says, pushing his coffee away roughly. Suddenly, the smell of it is making his stomach turn. “I don’t need you to do that.”

“Why not?” Andre demands. And it’s weird hearing the force in his voice, devoid of his usual childish whining and the meekness from before already gone. “Christian, I _want_ to. It’s not a big deal - I don’t mind.”

Christian glares, getting to his feet without thinking about it. “I don’t want you to just _not mind_ sleeping with me. I don’t want it to be _not a big deal_ ,” he says sharply. “And I definitely don’t want you sleeping with me just because I look like this,” he says gesturing to his chest, his softer hips and waist. 

Andre sighs in frustration, his head hanging in his hands for a second before he looks up and says, “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to do it as just a favor, I just - can you really not tell that I want you?”

“I mean considering how much time you’ve spent staring at my tits -”

“No, you idiot,” Andre interrupts, standing up also. He walks toward Christian, getting closer until he’s crowding Christian against the kitchen counter. Christian’s breath catches because Andre is so close, his hands big and warm against Christian’s hips. “I _have_ wanted you. Even when you looked like you did before. I want the Christian that I see in the locker room, the one who held the Cup with me, the one who cooks for me, and puts up with me even though even I know I can be a pain. Christian, I want _you_.”

“You don’t like guys, Andre,” Christian says weakly and Andre actually laughs.

“Says who?”

“Says the fact that I’ve only seen you pick up girls? Says Gina in her Instagram story the other night? Says -”

“Christian,” Andre says softly, hand coming up to cup Christian’s cheek, “you tried to give me a lecture on gender last night, and you can’t even come to the conclusion yourself that I might be bi? Or that maybe I don’t care about girls or guys or whatever? Or that, yeah, maybe I usually date girls, but I _definitely_ would want to date you, regardless of what you look like.”

“I don’t understand-” Christian starts and Andre groans.

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid.”

Christian is surprised when Andre kisses him. It’s hot and messy and when Andre pushes his body closer to Christian’s, Christian’s breasts press against him. Christian’s not much smaller than he usually is, which means that Andre’s definitely still bigger than him. He’s thick with pre-season muscle, and his shoulders feel strong under Christian’s hands.

Even as Andre presses his tongue against the seam of Christian’s mouth, a part of Christian can’t believe that this is actually happening, that Andre’s kissing him and that he can feel Andre’s dick half-hard against his hip. It feels - well, it feels like something straight out of what Christian was thinking about the night before, but so much better because that’s Andre’s hand in his hair and Andre’s chest pressed against his.

“Do you understand now?” Andre asks, when they part. They’re both breathing heavy and Christian swallows thickly.

“Yeah, I think,” he says, dazed.

“Good,” Andre says with a laugh. “Now, can we like move this to your room or something, because I’ve been thinking about eating you out since last night and it’s literally been driving me insane.”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be okay I think,” Christian says breathlessly, the heat in his face creeping down his neck and chest. 

Andre grins wolfishly, tugging Christian along, not even bothering to close the door to Christian’s bedroom before they’re both crawling into his bed. 

Andre kisses him again, Christian’s entire body feeling hot as his hands travel up Christian’s shirt, coming to rest on his breast. It feels so much better when it’s Andre’s thumb stroking over his nipple rather than his own, and even better than that when Andre rucks his shirt off and takes one of his nipples into his mouth, sucking gently.

“Andre -” Christian moans and Andre starts to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses in a trail down Christian’s stomach, stopping at the waistband of his briefs.

Christian can’t believe how wet he is already, and it’s embarrassing how clearly Andre can see that Christian wants him.

Andre pushes down Christian’s briefs until they’re on the floor and Christian tries and fails not to blush when Andre spreads his thighs.

“You wouldn’t believe how good you look right now,” Andre says, voice rough and Christian has to cover his face with his arm when Andre touches him. 

It’s a shock when Andre slips a finger inside him. Christian gasps at how easily it goes in, how Andre can even add a second finger to stretch him open. Andre’s thumb rubs against Christian’s clit, and it doesn’t take long until Christian’s coming around his fingers.

“Did you give yourself multiple orgasms when you were doing this last night?” Andre asks and Christian lets out a soft whine when he removes his fingers from inside of Christian.

“You could hear me?” Christian asks, mortified, and Andre laughs.

“You were being pretty loud, babe. Were you thinking about me?”

“Yeah,” Christian admits as Andre’s fingers rub against his clit. He’s sensitive, Andre’s every touch feeling like an electric current. “I was thinking about this. About what it’d look like with your face between my legs.”

Andre’s breath hitches. He moves his hands, spreading apart Christian’s legs, and Christian gets what he wants. He gets Andre between his thighs, Andre’s mouth against him.

It’s - well, it’s fucking mind blowing, honestly, having Andre’s tongue moving against his folds. Andre doesn’t just focus on his clit, and his mouth is hot and wet against Christian where he’s already burning with heat. Christian buries his fingers in Andre’s hair, his second orgasm building rapidly, and he can’t help but buck against Andre’s mouth when it’s released quickly.

Andre holds down Christian’s hips easily, lips and tongue still moving against his cunt until Christian is literally pushing him away because he’s just feeling way too much.

Andre smirks at him, wiping Christian’s slick off his mouth and Christian pulls him down, moaning at the taste of himself on Andre’s tongue when he kisses him.

“God, that was like, best orgasm of my life,” Christian breaths out and Andre’s smirk widens as he kisses Christian again deeply.

“Am I allowed to tell Jake that? Because he did tell me about that one time with the two of you, and I was sure I’d have competition -”

“Shut up,” Christian groans. “And please take off your pants because I’ve been waiting years to suck your dick and if I don’t get to do it right this second -”

Andre doesn’t need to be told twice.

\--

They barely get out of bed, leaving just once for a late lunch after which Andre finally actually fucks Christian, his dick hard and thick inside him.

Christian’s never been so exhausted at the end of the day. They shower together quickly and they fall asleep together in the guest room because Christian’s sheets are a mess and there’s no way he’s changing them until the morning.

Wednesday morning, it’s still fucking raining outside and Christian wonders vaguely if it’s ever going to stop. It’s a bit easier to wake up, though, when he’s pressed up against Andre’s back, his arm around Andre’s waist.

Christian moves closer to Andre, his dick pressing against the swell of Andre’s ass and -

Wait.

His _dick_ , which is definitely hard with morning wood and pressed against Andre.

“Andre,” Christian says, mumbling against Andre’s shoulder. Christian’s never been so happy to hear the sound of his own voice.

Andre shuffles a little, but doesn’t say anything, not until Christian shakes him gently. “Andre, wake up.”

Yawning, Andre turns around, blinking open his eyes blearily. When he sees Christian, he smiles, soft and warm with sleep and affection. He kisses Christian softly and Christian sinks into him without thinking about it.

“You look like you again,” Andre says, voice rough with sleep. 

“Yeah,” Christian says, his hand on Andre’s face.

“Good,” Andre says, moving closer until he has his face pressed up against the crook of Christian’s neck. Christian’s arms come around him automatically. “I missed this Christian. My Christian. Though the one with tits was hot too.”

Christian laughs softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Andre’s head. “Yeah, I missed it too.”

Andre hums a little against Christian’s skin and then says, “Do you think you can grow your hair out, though? I kind of liked it long.”

“Not a chance,” Christian scoffs. “It was so annoying.”

“It was hot,” Andre insists with a little bit of whine. “Easy to pull on.”

“Shut up, you brat,” Christian says fondly and Andre giggles, breath hot against Christian’s skin.

Andre falls quiet, his breathing even and steady. For a second, Christian’s pretty sure that he’s fallen back asleep, but then he says, “Hey, you got to blow me yesterday but I didn’t get to blow you.”

“That’s true,” Christian says steadily, though his heart rate does pick up noticeably. 

“Can I?”

“Yeah, fuck, of course you can,” Christian says, voice low.

Andre’s answering smirk leaves heat coiling tight in Christian’s belly. He pushes aside the covers, straddling Christian’s thighs, a heavy weight in his lap and he kisses Christian hungrily.

Christian kisses back eagerly. His dick is hard between his legs and he can feel the length of Andre’s against him too.

Just like yesterday, Andre starts by leaving a trail of hot kisses down Christian’s skin, stopping at the waistband of his briefs. He mouths at the fabric, right where it’s wet from Christian’s leaking dick.

“Andre, c’mon,” Christian says, almost a whine and Andre laughs.

Andre’s mouth is hot and wet when it wraps around Christian’s dick. He covers what he can’t fit with his hand and he looks absolutely obscene with his lips stretched over Christian’s cock. Andre holds down Christian’s hip and then bobs his head. It turns out Andre sucks dick just as enthusiastically as he gives head. 

It doesn’t take long for Christian to come down Andre’s throat, and Andre sucks him through it. Andre wipes at his mouth afterward, kissing Christian thoroughly, and yeah - this is just as hot as, if not hotter than, it was the day before.

Christian returns the favor willingly, Andre still pulling at his hair despite its shorter length. Christian didn’t think that was something he was into, but it feels good when it’s Andre’s fingers in his hair and Andre’s voice moaning his name deeply. 

When Christian snuggles back into Andre’s side, the rain is still falling hard against the windows. The skies are dark and it Christian doesn’t remember the last time he’d properly seen the sun.

None of that seems to matter right now. It could keep raining for days. The sun could stay hidden for weeks. Because, despite everything, Christian still feels a warmth in his chest, and he knows for a fact that it’s because he has Andre pressed against him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic of the "suddenly a different sex" variety. I know this trope has some inherent problems with it, and I've tried to handle it carefully. There is a discussion of "sex =/= gender" between two characters - it is not in depth and nothing close to perfect, but it's talked about and the characters understand there's a distinction between the two. Christian also uses he/him pronouns throughout the fic and there are some instances where he feels things akin to body dysphoria though not explicitly by name. 
> 
> If this is not your type of fic, please just don't read! If there's something you think I should fix/address rather in the author's note or in the fic itself please let me know but be nice about it!
> 
> \--
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoy it! If you did, please feel free to leave comments/kudos. If you want to talk to me privately you can find me @tjoshov on both twitter and tumblr!


End file.
